A Day Late
by sweetdetection
Summary: When two cops are killed in a bar shooting, Mac Taylor's team of CSIs must catch the killer, but tensions are high between the teammates as personal and professional boundries are crossed. DL, MS, MP, FS
1. A Special Place of My Design

DISCLAIMER: _CSI: New York_ and its characters are property of CBS and creator Anthony Zuiker. The events of this story, as well as the character Aspen Murray, are property of me.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This story does contain spoilers of _CSI: New York_'s third season. However, this is merely MY version of the events that could possibly happen on the show in the upcoming season.

SUMMARY: New York City Crime Lab technician Adam Ross is on a date with Aspen Murray, the new girl in town, when a shooting rips through the bar they're at, killing two cops. As Mac Taylor's team of CSIs try to find the killer before he attacks again, Stella Bonasera must deal with her unresolved emotions over Frankie's death and Mac's new relationship with Dr. Peyton Driscoll, ME. Adam's friendship with Danny Messer becomes strained as he fights with the detective for Aspen's heart, while Lindsay Monroe must re-evaluate her decision to keep Danny at arm's length despite his attempts to woo her first. Meanwhile, well on the road to recovery but suddenly realizing it's time to change some things in his life, Don Flack knows there's one thing he has to face right away: his growing affection for Stella.

PAIRINGS: Danny/Lindsay, Adam/Aspen, Mac/Peyton, Mac/Stella, Flack/Stella

LYRICAL CREDIT: _A Day Late_ by Anberlin, _Vitamin R_ by Chavelle

* * *

**A DAY LATE  
**_could have been lovers_

* * *

CAST FROM SHOW:  
AJ Buckley : Adam Ross  
Anna Belknap : Lindsay Monroe  
Carmine Giovinazzo : Danny Messer  
Claire Forlani : Dr. Peyton Driscoll  
Eddie Cahill : Don Flack Jr.  
Gary Sinise : Mac Taylor  
Hill Harper : Dr. Sheldon Hawkes  
Jonah Lotan : Dr. Marty Pino  
Melina Kanakaredes : Stella Bonasera

NEW APPEARANCES:  
Aspen Murray

Chapter One  
_A Special Place Of My Design_

The place was packed – and what's more, it was packed with _cops._ Vaguely, Adam Ross wondered if it was such a good idea to take his 'date' here…he probably could have managed someplace a little further from work, but he'd been so nervous about asking his coworker out anyway that he hadn't really thought the actual outing all the way through. Still, perched comfortably against the bar, with her standing comfortably close and two pints of beer with their names on them, he supposed this wasn't so bad. Aspen was smiling and content, and seemed comfortable enough. She was beautiful, all dark-eyed mystery, and he was definitely caught in her spell, completely absorbed in watching the way the dim lights played over her skin, lit the dark pools in her eyes. He had to take a moment to remember what they'd been discussing…oh right. Mac, and the fact that Mac could get into places like _Wild Wild Wet_ on Broadway, whereas Adam was positive he'd never be admitted – even with a badge.

"Well, it _is _a hip and salacious club. I can't imagine the boss there…Definitely not Mac's kinda place." He paused as if to reflect on that. "Not really my kinda place, either."

Aspen had turned to face the bar, but she glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes half-teasing, half-smoldering in the low light. Adam's tongue flicked out over his lips. Damn, but he wished he had a sharpie. And come to think of it, as good as she looked, he could probably use that lab coat, too.

"Not your kind of place?" Her lips curved, and he couldn't tell if she was teasing him or toying with him. "What, you don't like a packed club full of hot bodies, all with the express intent of turning you on?"

He swallowed, sure that his cheeks were bright red and hoping that she couldn't see. "Uh, well…when you put it that way…"

She laughed and lifted the pint to her lips, giving Adam a moment to remember how to breathe. He couldn't believe that she'd said yes – _she'd said yes!_ – seeing as she was absolutely gorgeous and he was…well, _him_. He knew he wasn't a total loss, but for a girl like Aspen? She was definitely settling. Not that he was going to complain. If she wanted to settle, he was fine with being who she settled for. She was brand new around the lab, only on the job for about two weeks. And better, she was from California, full of West Coast ease. He would happily, he thought with a little grin, help her keep from getting too chilled during her first winter away from the sandy shores of Pacific Beach.

"I thought you might change your tune. You just needed to look at it from a different point of view," she was saying, drawing his attention back to her. He couldn't repel the urge to smash his red curls into submission, but he knew it was hopeless. She turned fully toward him, caught the hand he'd half-lifted to his scalp, and was about to say something to him when all hell broke loose.

One minute he was standing there, with Aspen looking up into his eyes and leaning in, and all he could manage to think about for that sweet and unfortunately solitary second was, _OhsweetLordshe'sleaningintomeandtalkingaboutsalaciousclubs!_ The next moment, gunfire exploded through the bar. Two cops closest to the door went down, but Adam didn't wait to see if anyone else had been hit: he dragged Aspen to the floor and searched for the source of the gunfire as glass burst into shards on the wall behind them. By the time he'd gotten his bearings and really started to process the chaotic scene before him, he was covered in alcohol and a little blood, and the shooter was fleeing. Somewhere in the direction of the door, he could hear muffled groaning. He cursed. The two cops.

Someone had already called it in. Other cops from the nearest precinct had come running, and beyond that, there was a telltale wail of sirens from the streets. Beside him, Aspen stirred slowly and carefully from her bed of glass. He wrenched himself up more quickly, trusting his leather jacket to protect his arms.

"You okay?" he asked her. She nodded, looking a little dazed, and then her eyes fell on the fallen cops.

"Adam…"

He was already turning from her, quickly half-crawling to the cops. As he reached the side of the first one, he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. The cop was clearly dead, eyes staring up at the ceiling. His blood was already mixing with the alcohol on the floor. Carefully skirting the body, he dove for the second guy. He was bleeding from the stomach. Not a good sign. Adam was no doctor, but he knew what being "gutshot" meant. It meant a slow, agonized death unless the guy got medical attention right away. Applying pressure to the wound and silently thanking Hawkes for the emergency medical aid tutorials, Adam began talking to the guy.

"Hang tight, man. I got ya. Hang tight." He looked up hopelessly for help. But this was not the lab, Dr. Hawkes wouldn't be just strolling by, and keeping this guy alive had fallen on him. He felt suddenly, wildly inadequate for the job, but it was his whether he felt capable or not. Breathing hard, he pushed harder against the wound, trying to ignore the groaned protest. Aspen was shakily gaining her feet, checking on the rest of the bar inhabitants. They were all asking each other frantic questions: _Did anyone see the guy? What kind of gun was it? Anyone see which way he went? Why the fuck would he shoot at a bunch of cops?_

Adam blocked them all out, focusing on the man bleeding beneath his hands. "Stay with me, okay? Stay with me. You just keep looking right at me," he said, knowing his eyes reflected the panicked horror in the other's.

It was an eternity of the murmured encouragement, of fear and helplessness, before two paramedics were taking over. Adam collapsed backwards, all of his bones liquefying in terrified relief. Aspen's hands were there, grabbing at his shoulders and staggering back under the weight of him as, boneless, he slid back onto his butt on the floor. He clasped her, more out of instinct than any conscious reaction, and watched as the paramedics strapped the guy to a gurney and rushed him toward the ambulance that idled on the sidewalk, waiting for its damaged goods.

"Jesus," he muttered, dazed. Aspen said nothing, and he could tell she was just as shell-shocked as he was. They sat in mutual shock for a long time, as officers poured in and began seeing to the witnesses and victims. He knew they'd have to give statements, but he didn't rouse himself off of the floor. He was suddenly more tired than he'd ever been, even after eighty-hour workweeks in the lab, or being up all night trying to track down that _one particular_ species of fungus found under a vic's fingernails. This weariness – by far – beat those feelings of exhaustion. Behind him, Aspen respected his silence. Her forehead fell forward, resting against his back as she took the time she needed to get her bearings.

"That first guy…he was…"

"Dead," Adam confirmed, his mouth drier than the Sahara in high summer. He felt her hand tighten on his shoulder, and felt oddly comforted by the contact.

They sat like that for God knows how long before a familiar voice finally caught Adam's attention.

"You gotta be kiddin' me…Adam?"

It was Danny Messer, trailing just slightly behind Adam's boss, Mac Taylor. Immediately, Adam felt like an idiot, sitting on the floor in a pool of beer and blood, with Aspen behind him. He stood, helping her up before he turned to face the pair of oncoming detectives. Carefully plucking their way across the floor, hoping to keep from stepping on evidence, they halted before the lab tech. Adam shook his head a little, still feeling dazed.

"Christ, you look like hell." Danny's blue eyes were critical, but not unsympathetic. He studied Adam for a long moment, then his gaze flicked over Adam's shoulder to Aspen. Though the look lacked recognition, there was surprise there. Adam knew Danny was wondering why such a pretty girl was there with him, and he felt a flash of blind rage. Blinking, surprised by the force of his sudden, hot anger, he took a deep breath.

"The detectives haven't talked to us yet – it's pretty packed, they haven't finished questioning everyone."

Mac finally spoke up, his eyes scanning the room around them. "It's okay. Flack's with us, he'll take your statements. Are you both alright?"

Adam nodded, relieved to see Aspen nodding as well. He looped his arm around her, giving her a quick squeeze. Danny's eyes caught the movement as well – _damn observant bastard._

Mac missed the sentiment. "You were both here?"

Adam felt his cheeks heating again. Amazing, that he could feel embarrassed even after having been through such trauma just a few minutes earlier. He avoided Aspen's gaze, wondering if he should tell Mac it was a date. "Yeah."

If Mac read into the implications of that affirmative, he made no indication. Instead, he waved Flack over to take the statements. Adam glanced at Aspen, but she seemed distracted. How could he blame her? He'd just had a dying man in his hands. She glanced at him as Flack motioned for her to step away with him, then turned fully toward the tall detective, following him trustingly. Adam sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**

* * *

**

"So wait – _wait._" Danny was laughing, leaning against the desk in the Trace Lab. Adam shot him a look ripe with murderous hate. Between them, Lindsay Monroe looked back and forth at the pair as if she couldn't decide who was the lesser evil.

"Go back to the part where you were on a _date._"

Adam rolled blue eyes, clearly exasperated.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" the tech demanded, hands on his hips. He wasn't surprised that Danny was making a huge joke out of the entire situation. Then again, Danny hadn't had a man dying in his arms, either. Adam found that he didn't really appreciate the humor this morning.

"Wait – you were on a date, and someone shot at you?" Lindsay's brow furrowed.

"Well, no…not at _me_. Just in the bar." He could still hear the shots when he closed his eyes, but he tried not to appear too affected. These two were seasoned detectives, after all.

"Who were you on a date with?"

Here, Danny cut in, suddenly an expert on lab personnel – something which Adam found annoying to no end. "Only the hottest girl in the lab. The new one – what's her name? _Aspen_. Like the tree."

"I know what aspens are," Lindsay shot back, obviously annoyed at the mention of how hot this new girl was. Adam knew how she felt – Danny didn't even know her name, but if he went after Aspen, he was doomed. She'd fall prey to the Bronx-native's charms in moments, and what chance did a crime lab tech stand against that?

"_Anyway—_"

"She's from California." Danny barreled past Adam's attempt to change the subject. "Flack and I have this bet about her tan—"

It could have been as innocent as whether it was a real tan or a fake one, but knowing Danny and Flack, Adam didn't think it unreasonable to assume that the bet was if she was tan _everywhere._

"Can we maybe get back to work?" he asked, cutting in, and Lindsay shot him a small, grateful look. No doubt she had drawn similar conclusions as to what the bet was about. Danny gave them both a look, then shrugged.

"Sure, sure." He was all business suddenly, leaning over to see what Adam had been working on. Under a microscope, Adam had arranged several fibers taken from the crime scene, thought – more like hoped, really – to belong to the shooter's jacket. With a cop dead, one in critical condition, and another wounded, the NYPD was on guard and alert. Whoever this shooter was, he'd just made a lot of enemies – armed enemies.

"So, whaddaya got?"

"Looks like regular cotton fibers." Adam sighed. "Not much to go on. There was some kind of stain, maybe blood? I sent a sample over to Jane in DNA, but I think that's a pipedream." He shook his head. "We don't have much to go on, not until I can get my hands on those security tapes. And even then…"

"It's a long shot." Lindsay pursed her lips and glanced at Danny. "Do you think Morelli and Carter were specific targets, or…?"

Danny let his eyes roam up to the ceiling as he thought about her question. He rocked back on his heels a bit, then blew out a quick breath and shook his head. "Hard to say. I mean, the guy wasn't packing much heat if he wanted to do a lot of damage, but on the other hand…"

"Those two went down pretty fast," she finished, watching him carefully. He nodded, letting his eyes fall onto her. Adam caught something in the look, but it was too quick and he wasn't sure what had just passed before his eyes. The pair, while having always been at a playful sort of odds, seemed hyper-aware of each other in a quietly anxious manner. Something had happened between them, something that had Danny a little weary and Lindsay a little frustrated.

_Maybe Hammerback was right about that crush thing after all._ Adam frowned. _But…if that's the case, why is Danny on the defense?_

It was not, he knew, how the detective normally handled potential relationships with women.

"I'll call you guys if I find anything else," he promised out loud, wondering what in the world was going on around the labs. Since the explosion that had nearly killed Mac and Don Flack, things around the lab had gotten a little strange. For one thing, there were new people around. A new medical examiner, Peyton Driscoll, had taken Dr. Zao's place, and of course Aspen had been hired to help the lab keep up on the steady stream of work. Plus, there were whispers -- mere whispers, but enough -- that suggested that there was more than one reason that Dr. Driscoll had joined their ranks.

_Doesn't make sense…Mac doesn't get involved like that, not with people he works with._ But the rumors were flying, and Adam himself had been party to a rather awkward, very recent meeting between Mac and Stella Bonasera, his long-time partner. It had been tense, and there was something unsaid between the two of them that had even Adam feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps there was more merit to those rumors than he'd thought.

"Sounds good." Danny nodded, watching the thoughts play across Adam's face for a long moment. Lindsay touched Danny's arm, and his eyes turned to her, for a moment flashing with that old fire. Suddenly, Adam became very aware that he was the third wheel -- in his own lab.

"Okay, so, I'll call you and you'll come back, but until then…" He knew he was stressing their departure a little, but he definitely didn't want to be around all the flying sparks. He was just about to insist they take off when the door opened, catching everyone's attention. And there, strolling in, was Aspen. She looked up from the file she'd been glancing over and smiled warmly at Adam before nodding to the two detectives.

"Jane sent the file with your results over. It's not blood, but there was DNA in the sample."

Danny's smile was a little _too_ appreciative, and both Lindsay and Adam noticed. "Nice work," the detective said, and Aspen grinned and shook her head at him.

"I didn't do anything but bring over the report."

Danny only shrugged and continued to smile. Lindsay rolled her eyes and stuck out her hand to the other woman, barely reigning in her exasperation. Aspen took it, giving it a firm shake. The sizing up, Adam noted, was one-sided. Apparently, Aspen hadn't yet picked up on the chemistry between Danny and Lindsay -- or how she was throwing a kink into it.

"I'm Lindsay." Despite her obvious discomfort, Lindsay introduced herself with genuine interest. _Which is good,_ Adam reminded himself. This was a team, after all, and when there was fighting, it wasn't good for the overall effort of finding killers and getting them off of the streets.

"Aspen," the tech replied, releasing Lindsay's hand to give the report over to Adam. He thanked her, perhaps a bit warmly than he needed to, but he couldn't help it. He liked the way she looked at him, and he wanted to make sure she kept looking at him. But it didn't last. Danny pushed himself off of the counter and snatched the report smoothly, looking it over with critical eyes.

"Thanks for your help, guys. Lindsay, let's see if we can find someone in CODIS that matches the physical characteristics the DNA specified for us." He looked up, his eyes finding Aspen's face. Though he was addressing both lab technicians, it was clear who the focus was. "I'll see you later."

He was strolling out before anyone could reply. Visibly agitated, Lindsay stalked after him while calling a curt "goodbye" over her shoulder. Adam blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _What in the hell,_ he wondered, _is going on around here._ But he looked at Aspen and knew he wasn't immune to whatever it was that was going around. Still, the way Danny had looked at her…

Their gazes locked, and Aspen's playful smirk lit up her face and eyes. "I want a drink to replaced the one that got shot up."

Adam couldn't help but grin. "Okay, but I think we should try a different bar."

She laughed as she headed out, waving over her shoulder. "Good plan," she agreed, and was gone, disappearing out the door and around the corner. Adam sat for a long moment, absorbing everything that had happened, and then he turned back to the fibers he was examining. There was still, after all, a cop-killer to catch.


	2. Easy To Find What's Wrong

NOTES: I'm sorry I didn't get to all the characters in the first chapter. I was presented with a dilemma: try and write a fanatically long first chapter, or wrap it up in a place that I could. Also, couple things about Aspen: she's more of a "guest-star" like character. As in the case of AJ Buckley ( Adam Ross ), Aspen would only appear for a few scenes in each episode. She's meant as a instigator, and I think it's rather nice seeing the poor lab tech have a crush. By the by, I don't know how many people are fans of Adam, but I was absolutely overjoyed to see him on Wednesday. The only other thing I wanted to mention is about Detective Angel. I wasn't really planning on her appearing much as I've heard very little about her, but she may make an appearance or two as the story goes on.

THANK YOUS:  
_Zora080393_: Thank you so much! I strive to think of things that haven't been written before. And I'm not always successful, but this idea struck me as I was reading spoilers for Season Three and wouldn't leave me alone. As for the whole Danny-Lindsay-Adam-Aspen dynamic? Hopefully it will become clearer, but mostly it's that Adam is jealous of Danny to no end. And grammar and spelling is kind of a compulsive thing for me, so let me know if I make any mistakes!

_Chili-peppers_: Thank you so much! I hope you continue to review and let me know if you're enjoying it!

_Beth-TauriChick_: I'm glad I've gotten you hooked! I liked the idea of starting it with -- forgive the pun -- a bang. Keep reading, let me know if you're liking it!

_Adamsgirl_: Accents are definitely not easy to write. And writing cases? Even harder. I hope I do it justice. Your pen name really caught my eye -- it made me laugh, considering the beginning of this story. Keep your eyes peeled for more!

_Mj0621_: On a personal note, 0621 is the month and day of my birthday, so that was definitely eye-catching. And now that that's done, I just couldn't resist bringing Flack into the triangle. For one, after seeing how he handled what happened to Stella in _All Access _back in Season Two I've quietly harbored a love for Flack/Stella. But I still love Mac/Stella more. I just hope I do both couples the justice I'd like to.

LYRICAL CREDIT: _A Day Late _by Anberlin and _Dance_ _With The Devil_ by Breaking Benjamin

* * *

**A DAY LATE  
**_could have been lovers_

* * *

Chapter Two  
_Easy To Find What's Wrong_

"Someone," Stella Bonasera commented, "is going to have to tell Adam that Officer Carter died in the hospital today."

Five pairs of eyes met hers, and she shook her head slowly, her green eyes grim and resolute. She was at the head of the break room table, looking at her teammates: Detective Don Flack, only recently back on active duty following the explosion that left him in a coma for weeks; Detective Lindsay Monroe, still very much a country girl but developing an urban edge; Detective Danny Messer, street-and-book smart with something to prove but a heart of gold; Doctor Sheldon Hawkes, born into the worst parts of Harlem and now working in the center of Midtown Manhattan, one of the smartest and sweetest men Stella had ever had the pleasure of calling 'friend.' And that left Detective Mac Taylor, standing directly across from her with unreadable eyes, her rock in every storm up until recently. He watched her closely, reading her every movement, sensing a deeper agitation in her.

_Keep guessing, Mac._ He didn't know she knew. Or perhaps he did, but uncharacteristically avoided the heart of the matter. Well, whatever the reason, they had a case to wrap up before anyone else lost their lives.

"No volunteers?"

Hawkes took a deep breath. Stella's heart went out to him -- the ex-surgeon had lost one too many patients and had retreated into the morgue to keep from watching the life drain out of someone he was trying to save again. No doubt he was feeling a kinship with the lab tech.

"I'll tell Adam," he said finally, shifting. "He might not take it well."

"It's never easy news," Mac agreed, his voice stoic. But Stella knew that he understood, acutely so, what it was to fail in a life-saving attempt. "What else have we got? I want to catch this guy before any more cops get killed."

"We don't have much." Lindsay was shaking her head apologetically. "The bartender didn't get a good look at him, and neither did anyone else. He didn't order any drinks, and the security camera shows that he was only at the bar for a few minutes. He didn't touch anything with his bare hands or skin, and he knew how to work the cameras. Not a single clear shot of any distinguishing features."

Danny looked up, his eyes betraying the fact that he was onto a thought. "He had to know the bar and the security well enough to know how to work the cameras," he commented. "He's been there before. Maybe even--"

"Worked there? I'm having Marco pull a list of past and present employees as we speak," Flack finished, glancing down at his notebook. He tapped a pen against it, then glanced around the room. "This guy must have had a thing about cops. Everyone within four blocks knows that's where the local cops hang out off duty. He had a specific point to make."

Stella could tell this case was bothering him. While she and the rest of the CSIs were scientists, Flack was a full-fledged cop. He'd walked the beat for years before getting promoted. He was taking this shooting as a personal attack to his shield, as a personal threat to his friends and comrades. He'd always taken the cop-involved shootings hard, and not without understanding. In New York, working the NYPD was still dangerous. Not as dangerous as it had been a decade ago, but there were serious risks involved every time you put on the uniform or clipped on the badge.

"We got no leads. No one noticed him. Guy totally blended into the surroundings. He might have been canvassing the area for weeks. Marco says that there was an immediate response to the shooting, but the guy vanished into thin air. We're working his territory," Danny said. "He's gotta be close."

"Danny, I want you to go back to the scene, see if you can follow this guy's footsteps. There was a lot of broken glass, a lot of alcohol at the scene -- see if you can find me a trail that we might have missed before. Hawkes, go down to the morgue and see what you can get from Hammerback and the medical files the hospital sent over. Lindsay, I want you to fine-comb search the official files on Morelli and Carter -- I want any and all complaints filed against them. I want to know if this guy had a specific grudge against those two. Stella, you and I are going back to the scene. I want to reenact what happened. Flack, would you pick up Adam and bring him along? I'm going to need his eyewitness account while we're running over the shooting."

Everyone split at once, like a football team released from a huddle. Stella had always admired Mac's ability to focus on the details while covering all his bases. He was an intense man, but that intensity was belied by a passion that was emulated in very few people in this world. She knew that he was fostering that same attention to detail in Danny, taking the young CSI under his wing and acting as something of a mentor and father. She also knew he was familiar with the struggle between Danny and Lindsay. He'd kept his lips sealed about it so far, trusting his team members to act professionally and maturely, but she wondered what would happen were Danny and Lindsay to decide that the game was up, that they should act on their mutual attraction.

She fell into step beside the man she considered more of a friend than a boss, torn between her usual blind trust in him and a new feeling of betrayed hurt. He wasn't going to say anything, but she knew something the others on the team didn't -- the rumors about Mac and Dr. Peyton Driscoll were true. It tore into her that her friend, her partner and personal confessor, would keep this hidden from her. Mac had been the first to know about Frankie, hadn't he? Even when Hawkes had been speculating, it was Mac who'd gotten the first official word of her doomed relationship. Funny, how it had been Flack there to walk her through it. Oh, Mac had been attentive and understanding, he'd of course treated her with every respect and even affection, but Flack had been her support that day in an unexpected twist of fate.

She'd never considered Mac as the type to date within the team. She really didn't consider him the dating type at all, at least not recently. Since the death of his wife, Claire, he'd been on only a couple dates, and that had been where it ended. It was completely unlike him to cross the line between personal and professional, and what's more, it was unlike him to keep things from her.

It grated on her frazzled nerves, particularly because she hadn't slept since they'd been hailed over the radio about the cop shooting. Like the rest of the team, she was put on indefinite duty -- they weren't going to take any leaves of absence while the cop-killer was free and roaming the streets.

They didn't talk about it on the drive. They didn't talk about it as they got out of the car and headed for the bar, blocked off by police tape. They were still not talking about it when Flack and Adam Ross showed up at the scene. Immediately, Mac drew Adam inside the bar, asking very pointed questions about where he and Aspen had been standing, and what he remembered -- again -- from the shooting. Stella started to follow, but Flack caught her arm gently.

"Hey." His blue eyes were soft, inquisitive. "How you holdin' up?"

She flashed him her trademark smile. Flack had a noble streak a mile wide, and a very definite desire to protect his friends and colleagues. Since Frankie's death, he'd been especially attentive to her without being suffocating, and she appreciated it greatly. While the rest of the team tried to bolster her spirits and avoid the subject, Flack had taken special care to check up on her periodically. His friendship had been sorely missed while he fought for his life, and she'd been deeply relieved when he'd pulled out of it alright.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Flack's lopsided smile was warm and boyish, and everything she'd remembered it being from before the explosion. "Who me? I'm fine. Better than fine. Nah, Stell, I was asking about you."

She smiled again at the 'Stell.' Flack was informal and easy-going everywhere but the interrogation room, and then he was a shark, circling in eerie confidence while waiting for the perfect moment to strike the fatal blow.

"I'm good, honestly." She gave his arm a squeeze. "Thanks, Don."

It was an unspoken agreement they had -- she was Stell, he was Don. Since she'd shot Frankie, since Aidan had died, since he'd nearly died himself, they'd dropped most of the formalities normally observed. Besides, they'd been working together for long enough to establish something of a professional friendship. She released his arm, he flashed that smile again, and then they both stepped into the shattered bar.

"I was sitting here, at the bar," Adam was saying, gesturing to the stool he'd been propped in when the shooting had started. "I was with Aspen Murray. She was standing here, right in front of me, her back to the entrance. We were talking, my focus was on her, not on the door. Then the shots were fired and we went down."

"The shots were fired from where?" Mac asked, his eyes scanning the bar from Adam's viewpoint. "Over by the door?"

"Yeah. I can't be sure because I was busy getting to the floor, but probably from right about where Stella's standing." Adam shook his head. "It happened so fast…"

"This is where we swabbed the gunpowder." Stella was glancing over the wall, her eyes narrowed. "We just got the rounds from Carter's body, and Ballistics already has the ones recovered from the scene and from Morelli. They're running through IBIS as we speak, but so far, no hits."

"Looks like it was a .9mm." Flack glanced up. "Standard issue weapon for every major police department in the country, as well as the military. It's either gonna be really easy to trace, or…"

"A needle in a haystack," Adam commented. Mac shot him a look and he flushed. "Sorry."

Mac shook it off. It wouldn't be the first time they'd had to track down a nondescript, nonspecific weapon with nothing but the bullets found at the crime scene. If they could find the gun, they had their shooter, and that's what mattered.

"We'll find it," he announced with finality. No one questioned his resolve. Normally, Mac tended to be right about these things. It was one of the reasons he was never, ever hounded by the DA. On the rare occasion there was a run-in with the District Attorney, Mac was almost always able to smooth over strained tempers. This allowed him -- and his team -- to operate with a certain amount of freedom.

He and Stella ran through the scenario a few times, consulting Adam on details such as how fast the shooter took off, how many shots were fired, where he was during the entire showdown. Finally, after a couple of hours, Mac called it quits.

"Let's head back to the lab and see what they've got for us in Ballistics. Adam, I want you on that glass we recovered." The senior detective turned to Flack, started to say something. Flack's smile was slightly sardonic.

"Already on it," he commented. "We've rounded up the usual suspects. Let me know if the lab uncovers any more leads." Turning, the tall man disappeared out the door and under the crime tape, giving Stella one last look before he commissioned a uniformed officer to give him a lift back to the precinct in his squad car. She waved, he lifted his hand in answer, and he was gone. Mac strode past her, seemingly without noticing her whole exchange with Flack, and led the way back to the SUV that served as their "company car."

* * *

Danny groaned softly to himself as he dragged a hand through his hair, pouring over the crime scene photos from the bar. Going back to the scene hadn't helped at all. Whatever trail the shooter might have left was long gone now, and his only hope now was to catch something in the photos he might have missed the first time. He poured over them with a magnifying glass, but before long his neck muscles had knotted themselves tightly, sending shooting pains up his spine when he turned his head.

Rubbing the back of his shoulders, Danny pushed away from the table he'd positioned himself at, rolling his head to loosen his neck. Damn, but this was frustrating. He was an action kind of guy, and over-analyzing photos wasn't really his thing. He liked to be on the scene, seeing it all himself, firsthand. But he had his orders, and being at the scene hadn't helped.

"No luck?" Lindsay slipped in, tapping a file against her hand.

"Nothin." The syllables were short, tight. "Tell me you're having better luck."

She spread out the files in front of them both, standing close enough that he could smell the flowery shampoo she used in her hair. He curled his fingers into the sleeves of his lab coat and leaned forward again, this time to scan the records of two of the most nondescript cops he'd ever seen -- at least on paper.

"The only thing that stood out were the two excessive use of force suits -- one for both of Carter and Morelli. The reports have different names listed as the victim, but the handwriting looks very similar. The original documents are being tested now, to see if perhaps the reports were filed by the same person."

Danny looked up at her, eyebrows lifted. He seemed impressed. "Nice work, Montana. Good eye. If they were filed by the same person--"

"And we find out which alias is his real name, we could have our shooter." Lindsay's smile was shyly proud. He smiled back at her and gave a short nod.

"You already gave the boss that memo?"

"While I was on my way over to see how you were doing," she confirmed, plucking up the magnifying glass to look at the pictures. She was silent for a long moment, taking in the details, and Danny drank in her nearness in silence, leaning back in his chair and trying not to hover. He closed his eyes, for a moment remembering the night they'd reached the breaking point in their personal relationship. It still stung, but these moments she couldn't take away from him.

"Danny," she said after a moment, her body tensing.

His eyes snapped open and he sat forward, alerted by the slight alarm in her voice. "Got something', Montana?"

She looked up at him, still bent over the picture. "That alley…did you see anything out of the ordinary.

Danny frowned, wondering what she was getting at. "Nah. Some trash, graffiti, sleeping bum. Why?"

"Danny, he's not sleeping. That bum is dead."

"What?" Terribly awake, Danny got to his feet in a hurry, leaning over to take a closer look. He saw what he'd seen before, a man in a huddle on the ground, huddled under a blanket -- and then he saw what she was talking about. It was hard to see, but his eyes were open, and glazed. And the blanket wasn't stained -- it was covered in blood.

"Shit. _Shit."_ He took a step back, ran his hands through his hair. "How did I miss that?"

"It's easy to miss, I almost did except for the--"

"We gotta get down to the scene. _Shit._ Mac is gonna kill me. Grab your kit, huh? I'll meet you out front with the car."

* * *

Before she could react, he was out of the door, pulling out his cell phone as he headed down to the lot to get them transportation. Suddenly hurrying, Lindsay jogged to retrieve her forensics field kit before meeting him downstairs. She sensed things had just gotten a lot more complicated, and she knew better than to keep Danny waiting when he was on a mission.

Hawkes straightened from his slouch, then looked over at Mac, Stella, Danny and Lindsay. The body at his feet was ghostly pale and reeked, but it was a scent that -- unfortunately -- Hawkes was all too familiar with encountering. Curled under a blanket, gun at his side, the man was very obviously dead. Single gunshot wound to the chest. But what had really caused blood to pool under him and soak the blanket was the way the killer had then gone into the body to retrieve the bullet, burrowing into the dead man's back to make sure no evidence was left behind.

Hawkes pulled off his bloody gloves, a wrinkle appearing between his eyes as he frowned deeply. "Rigor and lividity puts him here for about sixteen hours, best estimate."

"That was about the time of the shooting, maybe a little later," Stella commented thoughtfully, glancing over her shoulder at the closed bar.

"So it's possible this guy is our shooter." Danny looked around the team for confirmation, although everyone else was still studying the body as though it might lift its head and explain it all.

"But if that's the case…who shot him?"

No one answered Mac's question -- it was going to be another sleepless night in the New York City Crime Labs.


	3. Too Many Shadows In My Room

NOTES: Welcome to chapter three of A Day Late. Hopefully if you're just joining us, you've read the previous notes. So, confession time in case you haven't -- I'm a huge AJ Buckley fan, and in that spirit, Adam Ross is probably going to ( quite uncharacteristically, to my dismay ) show up in every chapter. But I definitely don't want that to take away from the face time that the other characters get. Also, I'm definitely not a forensic investigator, but I _have_ been watching the show since the original CSI: Crime Scene Investigation premiered. I'm fairly familiar with the TV lingo and I make frequent use of the handbook on CBS's official websites for CSI, CSI: Miami and CSI: New York. A big concern of mine is keeping the investigative feel of the show in a story written by someone sorely inexperienced and undereducated about the forensic investigation aspect of crime detection and prevention. I'm much more of a touchy-feely Hallmark kind of girl, to be perfectly honest with everyone ( someone cue the John Mayer music? ). Another big concern of mine is making sure the characters created for us by Anthony and team remain canon -- any help or suggestions are greatly appreciated! Likewise, I'm a fan of encouragement. Lemme know what you like, there will definitely be more of it, lemme know what doesn't work and I'll try to remedy that. At any rate, I've rambled long enough and this chapter already took long enough to get out…onto the thank yous and the show!

THANK YOUS:  
_Adamsgirl:_ Yeah, I figured it wasn't NY's Adam, but I really can't blame ya for loving Adam Rodriguez. That is one beautiful man. Adams really are just great in general. And thank you for your compliment! It's not very easy to write a crime story when you don't know much about crime ( except for your three-times-a-week CSI fix ).  
_Moska:_ Thank you! I love language -- well, at least the written word. I'm horrible when I try to learn other languages, beautiful as some of them are. As for Stella/Flack -- I don't want to give too much away, but this story is all about rising tensions between potential couples, hence the "could have been lovers" catch line. I'm not agreeing or denying, but I hope you give this story a chance as far as the couplings go. But, not so secretly, I'm a Smacker at heart.  
_Xbexyboox:_ Stay tuned! The ride should only get more fun as we go! I'm glad you like it and I hope you review again to let me know your thoughts!  
_Zora080393:_ Yup, it's definitely essential to good writing to properly use grammar. Which I don't always do, as in the case of this incomplete sentence. But at least I know how to bend the rules, right? Also, thank you so much for you comments. It is not an easy thing to manage, trying to make everything flow and match up. Especially when you're dealing with the amount of characters in CSI: New York. And of course any time you bring in a new character, it's a challenge. But I was hoping that she would not only be far from a Mary-Sue ( we'll see… ), but also that her interest in Adam wouldn't repel people who normally don't read fics with OCs in them. Suspense is a good thing! Thank you for writing back to me, I truly enjoy your comments.  
_Chili-peppers:_ I was happy to see your name in the reviews again! Thank you for coming back around! I had a lot of fun constructing the D/L scene, and Wednesday night's episode only further inspired me. Let me know what you think of chapter three, okay? Thanks!  
_Dddynamite: _Thanks! Stay tuned for plenty more!  
_Kasmith101: _This story has been surprisingly fun for me to write. It's been a long time since I've written fan-fiction, and procedural shows are so hard to write. But I hope I'm doing alright. The breaking point for Danny and Lindsay is based off of what's going to happen in episode 3.03 _Love Run Cold_ -- in effect, Lindsay tells Danny she didn't mean for things to escalate between them to the point that it could effect their jobs. I didn't want to go into too many details before the episode airs, that's the reason for the vagueness. And thanks for the support of Adam and Flack! I have to admit, I love both those boys. But my favorites are Hawkes and Adam.

And a special thank you to everyone who added this story or myself to their author/story alert lists -- you guys are awesome, thanks for your support!

LYRIC CREDITS: _A Day Late_ by Anberline and _In Repair_ by John Mayer ( I did warn you about the John Mayer…)

* * *

**A DAY LATE  
**_could have been lovers_

* * *

Chapter Three  
_Too Many Shadows In My Room_

He jerked awake, sweat pouring from his body and breath tearing from his lungs as he ripped at his shirt, at the sheets, trying to get the glass off of him, trying to get the blood off of him, trying to find her in the chaos of the darkened room and city shadows. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was in his bedroom in the middle of the night, that Aspen was at home, safe, and that no one was shooting at him.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Adam covered his face with his hands and composed himself. His shirt was damp from his panicked sweat, and gunfire echoed in his ears. He hadn't had nightmares like this in years. He was normally pretty secluded in his labs. Sure, they got the occasionally stomach-turning case, but he had only very specific aspects of them to deal with. Most of the disturbing stuff happened outside of his clean, white work areas.

Fumbling, he reached for his cell phone, which was on the charger next to his bed. He disconnected it, flipping it open in a smooth movement despite shaking hands. Wincing as the light from its display struck his eyes, he keyed up Aspen's phone number. For a long time, he looked at it and debated calling. His digital clock told him it was almost two-thirty in the morning, she was more than likely in bed. Or else she was out on the town. But no, she had work in a few hours, just like he did. So sleep it was. He didn't want to disturb her if she was having pleasant dreams, but his own troubled sleep left him feeling edgy and too-cautious.

Finally, he shut the phone and climbed out of bed, shuffling toward his small bathroom and stripping off his shirt and sleep pants as he went. He tossed them on the floor, sarcastically wondering if the maid would remember to pick them up -- if he could remember to hire the maid. Which was a constant reminder that a maid was a luxury he definitely could not afford. He climbed into a cold shower and let it chase away the last vestiges of sleep and horror. As the water warmed and he began to soap up, he decided to head into work early. He could get some extra work done, and it would get his mind off of the fact that Carter was dead despite his best efforts.

Forty minutes later, hair still wet and tightly curled, Adam flicked on the lights in the Trace Lab. There were still techs and other specialists working -- it was a 24 hour job -- but this room had temporarily been abandoned to the dark. So it was here that he started. Closing his eyes, he pictured again the scene at the bar. He winced as his dream came back to him -- _it was Aspen that went down this time, dying quickly, and he that had gotten the second bullet. He was dying slowly, slowly, his eyes glued to her, to her lifeless form. It was his fault, his idea that they come to this bar, and if it weren't for him she'd be alive…and then there was Carter, blood dripping from his wound, standing above them both, staring with eyes that burned with accusation _-- and it took him a moment to shake those images from his mind and remember what had _actually_ happened.

The glass had been everywhere, so had the alcohol. It had mixed in puddles beneath him, probably worse behind the bar, and it had smelled like a cocktail gone wrong. There were shouts and screams as people hit the floor, four -- no, _five_ shots, but only three hits. Two, fatal. The third…

Perhaps they were going about this wrong. Perhaps that third victim had been somehow involved as well. He'd escaped too much scrutiny as of yet, but now Adam was thinking that was a mistake. Mentally, he made a note to comment about it to Mac. Then he refocused his energies to his memory. He tried to think if he'd seen someone when he and Aspen had arrived, but no -- the security cameras had confirmed that the man had only been at the bar for a short period of time before the shooting, arriving after the two techs had.

He'd, of course, heard about the second murder -- execution-style, or so he'd been told. Hawkes had brought that news, just has he'd brought the news of Carter's death. Funny, Carter died of complications, and yet Adam still felt responsible somehow -- that if he'd known more about what to do, what might have made the difference, that Carter might be recovering in his hospital room, and not in a locker in the morgue.

He went from Trace to Ballistics, leaving the lights on as he tugged on latex gloves. It was not the time for darkness, and at any rate, the brightness of the sterile environment was helping him stay awake and focused. He found the envelope with the bullets, pulled them out and stared at them. Normal, non-descript. He put them under the microscope, studied the stria, tried to wean a reason from the gouges in the metal. But nothing. Finally, he moved to Reconstruction, glancing at the scale model of the crime scene he and Danny had spent a good three hours constructing and perfecting. He peered at it from this way and that, vaguely aware that everyone else would be joining him soon. Finally, after making notations and trying to put himself in the shooter's shoes, he chomped down on his pen and braced his hands against the table, his curly red head falling forward as he combated frustration and lack of sleep.

"You're being too hard on yourself."

Adam's head jerked up and he craned to look over his shoulder, his eyes finding Stella in the doorway. It was five after five, and she had two cups of coffee. He suspected that she'd already taken Mac his, and he straightened to accept his own.

"It's just that --"

"You want to help. I know." She touched his shoulder. "Adam, we know you're doing everything you can. Mac knows. But no one's expecting you to remember the guy's name, face, and social security number." She offered him a wan smile. "We'll catch him, it's our job."

_You were born for this work._ Adam's comment to Mac a few weeks back echoed in his mind, and he nodded reluctantly.

"Now, how long have you been up? Maybe you should catch some sleep. You know how Mac hates it when he's not the first one on the team in."

"Thanks, Stell. But I can't sleep right now, even if I'd wanted to," he told her, turning his back to the model for a moment. He didn't want to admit to the nightmares, but Stella seemed to understand without a word. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. He knew she'd probably had plenty of her own nightmares to deal with.

She stood for a moment in silent communion with him, then finally lowered her hand and walked away, leaving him to his concentration. There was a piece he was missing, on the tip of his tongue. The problem would be finding which piece it was.

* * *

Mac hardly tasted the black coffee he was all but pouring down his throat as he was briskly making his way toward the morgue. He'd turned over their shooter's body to Peyton Driscoll after discovering it in the alley, but he was feeling too impatient to wait for her to page him. He shoved into the morgue, nodding to Sid Hammerback before proceeding to Peyton's side. She looked at him from over a body, then turned and grabbed the file she'd compiled. He walked with her in silence as she headed to the row of lockers and pulled one open, revealing the cadaver in question.

"I assume this is what you're here for?" she asked with a small smile. Too tired to return it, Mac nodded back. Peyton glanced over her notes as he examined the body. "He's what he looks like. Fatally shot in the chest. Most of the buckshot passed straight through his body, and the one that got lodge was dug out."

Mac grunted. They hadn't recovered any bullets or jackets from the scene, nothing to help them identify the gun used to shoot their suspect.

"Name?"

"He's not in the system. Aspen's already searching Missing Person's."

Mac blew out a hard breath through his nose, obviously grasping at straws. Peyton smiled and touched his arm.

"There is an upside," she told him, and her smile widened as he looked up, obviously a little afraid to hope. She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and lifted what looked like a rib that she'd extracted from the body. "Whatever the killer used to dig the bullet out of this guy's body left specific tool marks. You might be able to narrow it down to a manufacturer once you've identified the tool." She set the rib aside and peeled off one of the gloves to hand him a magnified picture she'd taken of the gouges in the bone.

Mac stared the picture, then looked up at her.

"That's a huge help, thank you." Finally, he was able to muster a real, genuine smile for her. She merely dipped her head, smiling a bit herself.

"Yes, well, let's hope so. I'd like for you to get this guy before he gets you."

It didn't take a practiced ear to hear the very real concern in her voice, and Mac took her hand discreetly, squeezing it in a gentle show of reassurance.

"Come over tonight?" he murmured, the request for her ears only. Peyton's smile bloomed, unexpected but sweet, and she nodded. "Great." His own smile felt a little wider than normal. It wasn't so bad, he mused, being able to see her at work. Not if she was going to keep smiling at him like that.

"I'll make dinner this time," she offered, and he gave her hand another squeeze.

"I'm looking forward to it." He let her hand slip from his and left the morgue. He knew it was dangerous to be so personal at work, particularly considering the fact that both of them wanted their relationship to remain as discrete as possible, but he was human. He couldn't help but want to sooth the worry from her.

He was still thinking about dinner when he turned the corner and nearly ran over Stella. Expertly, as if she were used to it, Stella caught his arm before he could completely barrel into her. Laughing, she helped him regain his balance, her green eyes bright the way they only were when she was onto something. He straightened his jacket and met her gaze, realizing that after so many years working together, she _must_ be used to him.

"Whoa, tiger, where are you off to in such a hurry?" she asked him with a laugh.

"We just got some good news from the ME's Office." He held up the picture Peyton had passed him. "I was going to look for a match to whatever the killer used to dig out the bullet."

"That is good news!" She was genuinely excited, something that always made Mac smile. "Maybe you could get Adam to help. He'd be grateful for the work to distract him."

"And what's your big news?" he asked. She shot him a look, putting her hands on her hips.

"What makes you think I have any?" she asked, her tone subtly teasing. He simply gave her a look that clearly conveyed the fact that he just _knew_ when she had breaking news. She held up her hands, laughing again.

"Okay, okay -- Aspen tracked down a name from Missing Persons. Luke Casimir. Jersey native, disappeared from his home in 2001. He was the main suspect in a couple of robberies and a rape case in Harlem before he dropped off the face of the earth."

"Maybe his violence was escalating."

"That's what I thought. I've got Danny and Flack tracking down previously known associates. Maybe they kept in touch, and if they didn't, we could at least find out what exactly his plans were before he disappeared," Stella agreed.

"Good." Mac gave a quick nod. "Stay on that, make sure Flack and Danny follow up." He held her gaze for a moment, then wagged the picture as if he'd just remembered it again. "I'll be in Reconstruction, working on our mystery tool. If you see Adam, send him that way. I'll page him, too."

"You got it," Stella agreed, changing direction to take the nearest exit to the streets, no doubt to chase down Flack and Danny. Mac, meanwhile, headed toward the Reconstruction Lab, but not before putting in a call to Hawkes -- his surgical expertise might come in handy if the killer had used a medical instrument to extract the evidence from their shooter's body.

* * *

The streets of Washington Heights were packed, but Danny and Flack pushed through the crowds with the ease born of years of practice. Something, Flack knew, was bugging his friend. And he could bet good money he knew what it was. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get into it, but they still had a few blocks before they reached the building where Luke Casimir's old friend Michael LaMonte lived.

"So talk to me. What's going on with you?" he asked, his eyes flickering over to his friend as he plowed through a knot in the foot traffic. Danny had been off for weeks now, had been since Flack had been lying in his hospital bed.

"Wha, is that an order?" the Bronx native shot back, but although his tone was light and playful, his eyes weren't so amused. "It's nothing."

Flack rolled his eyes, making sure the move was exaggerated enough that Danny saw it. He nailed his friend with the full power of his blue eyes. Flack had always been Danny's personal confessor, and he wasn't going to let the guy off the hook so easily now. He shook his head. "Not gonna stick, Danny. What's up?"

There was a long pause, and then Danny flicked his tongue out over his lips and glanced over Flack's way. "Lindsay."

"I figured it had something to do with that."

"We work together, and it's like --" Danny blew out a frustrated sigh. "it's hard. It's tense, ya know, and I don't know what I did."

"Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with you. Didn't she tell you she needed time to work some stuff out?"

Danny shot him a _look._ "Think so? She fed me the 'it's not you, it's me speech.'"

Flack couldn't keep a wry smile from curling the corner of his lips. "You're right, it's definitely you. Why don't you just give her some space?"

"I tried!" Danny threw his hands up. "I backed off, started talking to that girl in the labs, Aspen…she was the one at the bar with Adam. Anyway, I was just _talking_ to her, and Lindsay was mad doggin' me the whole time. You believe that? What am I supposed to do here? _She_ told _me_ no."

Flack groaned and shook his head. "Danny, you can't go from telling Lindsay you wanna be with her and then flirt with another girl."

"So, what, I sit around and wait for her to decide if she's ready? Besides, I was just _talkin_' to this girl. Between Lindsay and Adam, I thought I might as well have just clubbed Aspen over the head and dragged her back to my cave."

At that, Flack laughed. Sure, he knew Danny was being serious, but he could picture the look not only on Lindsay's face, but on Adam's. He remembered the way Adam had kept glancing over at Aspen, checking on her, when he'd been taking statements at the bar. The tech definitely felt something for his coworker, and no doubt the sight of Danny 'talking' to her sent up warning bells. Danny did tend to have a way with the ladies.

"Let's face it, Messer, at times you can be pretty barbaric," he managed when he'd stopped laughing. "Can't blame Adam for getting a little territorial. It probably took him weeks to work up the nerve to say hi. You know how he is."

Danny shoved his arms out in front of him, a defensive gesture as he sputtered in his effort to explain. 'I just -- look, she's cute, but she's not…I wasn't flirting, Don. I don't know what they were so pissed about."

"Danny." Flack looked at him, his smile in full force. "You can't _help_ but flirt."

Danny simply hung his head and then shook it. "I can't win."

"'Friad not, buddy. You can take it out on this guy." He waved his arm at the building. "He's on floor five, and elevator doesn't work?"

Some of the fire returned to Danny's eyes, and he smirked at his friend. "Wah, you find out while visiting your girlfriend?"

Flack's eyes flashed and his smile turned a little wicked. "Nah, your sister. She says hi, by the way."

Danny shook his head and made sure his gun was loose in its holster. "Let's get up there and do our jobs, clown," he replied, but he was grinning a bit, too. He was lucky, Flack always made him laugh, even in the middle of what was shaping out to be the worst few weeks on record.

They climbed the stairs, ignoring the fact that half the people they passed immediately darted into rooms, or huddled in tight, defensive groups. They definitely weren't in the nicest area of town, but neither man reacted. Neither of them had spent their formative years in the nicest part of town. They simply focused on what they were there for, and blocked out everything else. As they neared LeMonte's door, Flack rapped on it loudly with his knuckles.

"LeMonte! Michael LeMonte! Open up, NYPD! We got some questions!"

Tensely waiting, his hand hovering over the grip of his gun, Danny wondered suddenly if they were wasting their time here. For a few long moments, nothing could be heard in the apartment they were shaking down. And then there were footsteps, and the door jerked open as far as the security chain would allow. A bloodshot green eye studied them, narrowed and suspicious.

"What the hell do you want?"

Danny shoved his badge into the space, nearly hitting the guy in the eye with it. "NYPD, let's go. We wanna talk to ya for a while."

"I didn't do anythin'." The tone was too defensive, and Danny's eyes hardened.

"Yeah? I got a body in the morgue that tells me different. C'mon, let's go. Or are you inviting us in? See, my friend Detective Flack here?" He gestured, and the perp glanced over at Danny's tall companion. "He's discovered a real affinity for kicking in doors. And I bet you haven't called the maid, right? Unless you wanna get booked for possession and spend the night at our version of the Ritz, I'd get out here."

The door shut and Flack tensed, obviously expecting to have to muscle the door down and catch the guy, but a second later it opened again, and a man a little taller than Danny appeared, rumpled and pissed, but somewhat cooperative.

"Let's get him downtown, huh?" Flack motioned for LeMonte to proceed them down the stairs. "You wanna call Mac?"

Danny already had his phone out. "Hey, Mac -- yeah, listen, we're bringing one to ya right now. Yup, we'll see ya there."

* * *

Lindsay stared down at the blanket spread out over her table, a pile of neatly folded clothes on the table off to her left. A magnifying glass was in her left hand, but she didn't lift it. She'd been pouring over the clothes for nearly two hours, trying to find something that might lead them to the killer.

"He was just a game piece," she murmured out loud, not seeing Sheldon Hawkes as he slipped into the room.

"A pawn."

Lindsay glanced up, startled, and Hawkes smiled slightly and gestured to her blanket. "He _was_ a game piece, one sacrificed in order to win the game."

"Like in a game of chess, sometimes you sacrifice your pawn…"

"To make a decisive move elsewhere on the board." Hawkes' smile faded, and he leaned over the blanket, his dark eyes running over the cloth. "But if this was just one move in a series, that means our killer is probably building up for the end of the game."

"You think he has other targets." Lindsay's frown deepened, her eyes concerned. Hawkes looked up at her and nodded, his own gaze a bit grim.

"I think he was just getting our attention with this attack."

"And now that he has it?"

Hawkes gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "Checkmate."


	4. You Bleed For Me I Bleed For You

NOTES: We're back for chapter four! I'll make this short and sweet, kind of like this chapter: I've decided to have Detective Angell appear here – anyone else a WINGS fan? That the term that's kind-of been applied to the Hawkes/Angell pairing ( since both hawks and angels have wings ). It might grow on me – I think I need to see more of Angell to decide for sure. At any rate, I'm hoping this chapter ties up some loose ends and propels the story even further at the same time – I'm anxious to hear your thoughts cuz this is a big one, so please do review!

THANK YOUS:  
_Mj0621: _Man, I'm sorry. must have been acting up that day or something. But it makes me happy to be on your alert list. Thank you so much – it's fun for me to write smething that people grow more and more enthusiastic about. I certainly love reading your reactions to the new chapters. Peyton is here…probably not much, but definitely to stir up trouble for Mac and Stella. And Angell is gonna make an appearance or two, starting with this chapter. And, thanks! The chess part was a fun little Hawkes/Lindsay moment for me!  
_Peanut2lb: _I'm so glad you think so! It's not easy to keep track of the details – the show's writers have quite a job! I hope it at least _sounds_ like the show! Toying with the romantic pairings is especially fun. I hope you continue to read and let me know what you think! And your pen name is so cute!  
_Xbexyboox:_ Thank you! I hope you keep reviewing my chapters so I know if you're enjoying the story! I love seeing your name in my alerts!  
_Hannah2005:_ I'm glad this story caught your attention. I'm happy to hear you're hooked! I'm especially flattered that you think it's show-quality. I hope you keep reading and I can't way to hear more of your thoughts as the story progresses.  
_Chili-peppers_: I'm so glad you're having a good time with this fic! Pleas stay tuned and keep letting me know what you think! By the by, are you the _chili-peppers_ on the TalkCSI boards? If you are, this is _detectdevotion_! Good to see you around!  
_Carolannw5:_ You're so sweet! I hope you'll let me know if I keep up the good work! Stay tuned for more action!  
_Adamsgirl:_ Wasn't he awesome in "Not What It Looks Like"? I loved seeing him outside of the lab. I'm really excited that you now love both the beautiful Adams. Yay for hot guys in lab coats! I can't wait to hear from you after this chapter, definitely let me know your thoughts! Take care!  
_BrokenSkye:_ Thank you so much for saying so! I'm really glad that you're enjoying the case as much as the personal stuff – I don't want the fic to get technical and boring, but I also want to keep it realistic. It's definitely a relief to hear such a positive response! Please tell me what you think of this chapter, too! See you soon!

Again, thank you to everyone who's placed either myself or this story on their alert lists, and a special thank you to those who placed me/the story on their favorites lists! I'm very flattered!

LYRICAL CREDIT: _A Day Late_ by Anberlin and _Monsters_ by Matchbook Romance

* * *

**A DAY LATE  
**_could have been lovers_

* * *

Chapter Four  
_You Bleed For Me I Bleed For You_

"_Ten-thirteen, ten-thirteen, multiple officers down! Repeat, officers down!"_

Stella was gripping the dashboard, straining to see past the flood of other responding squad cars as the ten-call repeated over the radio. The precinct was flooded with activity, and Mac knew she was hoping for the best and assuming the worst: this was Flack's precinct, and they were there thanks to a second deadly shooting, trying to get onto the scene as confusion clogged the radio signals. Mac doubted seriously that Flack was involved, but their phones _had _been ominously silent since the radio hail.

"_Ten-fifty-seven, come on guys, where the hell are you?"_ Mac stiffened. They'd called for an ambulance a second time; things were serious. He knew at least one person was dead, which was why they were responding. He and Stella had already been on their way when they'd officially been called to the scene – by the time they'd gotten the 'official' word to go in, the scene had been secured and there was no sign of the shooter, but the chaos he left in his wake meant that there were people unable to receive medical help. The area was currently flooded with uniforms. Frustrated, unable to get his car any closer to the scene, Mac slammed down the brake and climbed out of the SUV. Stella followed his lead, grabbing her kit and searching the crowds for a specifically familiar face. Mac spotted the tall detective before she did, barking orders and looking furious – and scared.

"Flack!" Mac held up an arm, and the detective's sharp blue eyes spotted him. He pushed his way through police personnel as the medics arrived, swiftly seeing to the wounded. They were spread out over the stairs leading from the precinct to the sidewalk, but it was hard to make out much from behind a solid wall of responding uniformed personnel.

"How bad is it?" Mac asked as Flack drew near enough to hear. The detective shook his head, for a moment beyond words. Stella was watching as the paramedics hit the ground running, fanning out to see to the victims.

"We got four down, one dead." Flack shook his head. "People are panicking, Mac – they wanna know if it's the same guy. If it is, we gotta catch this sonovabitch before this thing gets worse. My guys don't wanna go out on their beats, and I can't blame 'em. I've got angry wives calling up at all hours of the day, demanding to know if their husbands are safe out there with this crazy on the loose, and what am I gonna tell 'em?"

Stella could understand his frustration. The shootings had left everyone feeling edgy. She was about to comment again when a familiar car pulled up. The rest of the team had arrived and they wasted no time in moving out. Hawkes dashed immediately for the paramedics, quickly identifying himself and his qualifications as he began helping the wounded. Meanwhile, Danny and Lindsay made their way directly for Mac and Stella. Danny's face was a twisted mask of fury. The Bronx native had never been good at concealing his emotions, particularly not in these situations. Lindsay, beside him, looked more worried than anything else as she all but jogged to keep up with his long, determined strides.

"This the same guy, Mac?" Danny demanded, coming to a stop but shifting agitatedly on his feet. He looked like a boxer about to go in the ring, and Stella laid a hand on him, trying to soothe that barely-caged fury.

"We don't know yet." Mac nailed the younger detective with a hard look. "I don't want you to jump to any conclusions. You collect evidence _without bias_. I shouldn't have to remind you."

Danny shifted, shook his head. "You don't," he replied, in steely tones that betrayed his resentment for the unnecessary reminder. Mac sighed. They were all under a considerable amount of pressure, but he didn't want Danny to crack. He gestured toward the scene, and Flack began clearing a path for the CSIs as the crime scene tape went up. The paramedics ignored them, strapping people to gurneys. The body they left in place, untouched, for examination, photographs and eventual transport to the morgue. Hawkes looked ragged already. He pulled off his sullied gloves as Danny handed him his forensics kit.

"Shots were fired from somewhere high, no one's sure exactly. I sent some guys up into the buildings across the street to see if they could find anyone." Flack shook his head. "Nothin'. Not even a shell. Guy's long gone."

"Danny, Lindsay, as soon as we're done here, I want you across the street pulling any security you can from those buildings. I want every frame of footage from the last twenty-four hours. And talk to the security guards."

Both nodded, although they both very resolutely kept from looking at one another. That, Mac realized with a sigh, was an issue he was going to have to address later. Pulling on his own gloves, he proceeded toward the body, focusing as his team prepared to thoroughly sweep the area for any clues.

"The shooter isn't coming back for the bullets in these victims," Hawkes noted quietly. "We may be able to find something."

"It's a start," Stella agreed, "but if he wasn't worried about these bullets, he's probably not worried about IBIS."

Danny shook his head as he started combing the area where the other victims had fallen, trying to ignore the still-glistening blood on the pavement as he searched for anything that might give them an indication of where the shots had been fired from. He'd just began to walk the perimeter when another familiar figure appeared. Walking quickly, Adam appear through the crowds, carrying in a laser scanner, which he would use to determine the trajectory of the bullet. He also had a Scansphere Laser 3D Scene Digitizer to take a 360 degree view of the crime scene to recreate at the lab. He looked anxious and edgy, in no way happy to be out of his lab and at the scene of a second cop shooting. His eyes fell on the body, then jerked away, and he immediately began to set up shop, carefully not looking at anything or anyone but the equipment.

It was Lindsay that spoke to him, saying something low and quiet that only he could hear, and Danny felt a flash of heated anger. The two had never been particularly close – Lindsay was usually more disgruntled with Adam than anything else, always pushing for results. And Adam had never taken kindly to being rushed, as Danny himself had found out the hard way on several occasions. Still, there she was, with a delicate hand placed a comfortingly on the tech's tense arm, saying something that had his shoulders relaxing a little, and as he turned more toward her to say thanks, Danny had an almost painful urge to walk over there and punch Adam in the face.

_Christ._ He shook himself out of it. Lindsay had said no, and besides, Adam was into Aspen. But what he didn't understand was _why_ Lindsay had turned him down. Dragging his eyes away from the pair, he reminded himself that the cop behind him dead on the pavement was the reason he was here, and the reason he needed to focus on his job. Before long, Lindsay was at his side anyway, leaving Adam to his work.

"We should probably get that security footage Mac wanted," she said gently, noticing his edgy, dark mood. Danny nodded, standing and peeling off his gloves. The crowd was very slowly dispersing, with help from an impatient Mac, and he tried to shake the last of his jealousy as together, he and Lindsay made their way across the street.

They weren't speaking, that was the first thing Lindsay noticed. She and Danny walked together in silence, and it felt unnatural and uncomfortable. Where was the man that used to tease her the instant she walked into the room or onto the scene? Where were the 'Montanas' and 'Miss Monroes?' Where were all the things that would ease this horrible discomfort? She hadn't thought he'd felt so strongly for her, and turning him down hadn't been so much out of any desire to hurt him than preventing him from being hurt. He didn't understand, and she knew explaining would only lead to argument. That was Danny – he didn't like to lose.

"Maybe one of the cameras got a good shot of the guy."

Danny made a noise. "How often does that happen?"

"It happens," she murmured quietly and defensively, feeling guilty somehow. That feeling of guilt also made her a little mad – why should she feel guilty? She'd made a rational decision to do what was best for the both of them, and just because he didn't understand, that didn't give him the right to sulk like a child.

But at the same time, it was rather flattering to know he was deeply affected. She couldn't remember the last time she'd let someone close enough to be so emotionally wrapped up in her. She curled her fingers into her palms.

"Look, I really am sorry about standing you up, but I just—"

"I know." Danny sounded a little drained, a little hurt. "I know." He didn't want to hash it out again, not if she wasn't going to give him any other answers. It was just easier not to. She took a quick, silent breath and told herself she was okay with that, although she wasn't. At some point, whether they wanted to or not, this conversation was going to happen.

But for now, they didn't have to talk about it – she found herself grateful for that at least. She put her mind back on the task at hand, following Danny into the lobby of the office building that was directly across from the precinct. He leaned against the desk, immediately catching the attention of the woman behind it, and almost lazily inquired about the security tapes. She had obviously been shaken, and though uniformed officers were now all over, she didn't appear to be very comforted. Lindsay could hardly blame her. From here, the gunshots and sirens and shouts had probably been terrifying.

Danny's act wasn't comforting her, either. Lindsay recognized the tactic – act calm, and maybe she would calm down, too. With something so traumatic happening so near, however, meant the normally excessively charismatic detective wasn't having much luck. The woman got onto the phone with the building's security, her hands still shaking. Lindsay sent Danny a glance – he'd been taking these cop killings quite personally, and she found herself wanting to comfort him, or at least to say something soothing.

_Bad idea, Monroe,_ a voice told her. She sighed, then turned as the doors to the lobby's elevator opened. There, in the doorway, was a security guard, and with him the tapes that – with a lot of luck and a few hours in the AV Lab – would crack the case.

They moved like this from building to building along the opposite side of the street, trying not to glance at each other at the same time, or say anything too personal. As their collection of videos grew, Danny made impersonal conversation – mostly angry commentary about the sort of rat bastard that could do something like this. Lindsay took heart in the fact that, as awkward as things were between them, he wasn't ignoring her _completely_. They headed back toward Mac, intending on informing him that they were going to check out other buildings that might have offered a perch for the shooter when Hawkes flagged them down.

"Your theory on the assault charges against Carter and Morelli? You were right, the handwriting is the same, and the analysis from Ask Sam – that's a handwriting database – came back with a hit," the doctor told Lindsay. She frowned in confusion.

"But Luke Casimir is dead—"

"It wasn't a match to Luke Casimir." Hawkes' dark eyes danced – he loved this part. Lindsay and Danny exchanged glances, both well familiar with the other's tendency to "save the best for last," as he put it.

"So, Doc, you gonna tell us who it did match or leave us hangin' here?" Danny demanded finally, his hands on his hips. Hawkes' smile only widened.

"Daniel Masterson. Aspen's got more info at the lab. Mac's already sent Flack and Stella to see If they can shake him down, and he wants the rest of us back at the lab for a meeting pronto. Also, Adam's done scanning the steps and buildings into to computer. He's going to mock up the shooting for us based on the trajectory from our vics' wounds, meaning –"

"We'll know which building our shooter was hiding in, so maybe our security footage might help out after all," Danny finished, beginning to return Hawkes' vibrant grin. The other man nodded, looking back and forth between his teammates.

"Precisely."

* * *

"I put out a discreet APB for our friend Daniel." Aspen braced her hand on the table as she pulled up his record again – it was a long one, full of petty crimes with violent twists. "Trouble is, everyone's in such a panic over these shootings…it might leak out, especially if he's paying attention to police frequencies." 

Mac nodded, peering over the tech's shoulder at the screen. "If he's our shooter, he's paying attention."

Aspen sighed and returned the nod. "I can call the local networks and get his face splashed all over the five o' clock news if you think it'll help."

"It can't hurt," Hawkes commented, glancing around the table at the rest of the team. "If he's got any idea we're after him, we might need to get the word out to the public to even have a chance of catching this guy."

Mac's mouth and eyes tightened. He thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head and looked around the table, noting the prolonged absence of Flack and Stella as he did.

"But if he doesn't know, we've lost any advantage of an element of surprise. Not to mention that if his name goes out on the wire, we risk someone else getting to him before we do. This city isn't friendly to cop-killers. We keep this internal, and I don't want anything else leaving these labs. Not a word to anyone, not even IAB, unless I give you the okay. Clear?"

Adam, Aspen, Danny, Hawkes and Lindsay nodded solemnly, although Danny looked as though he felt that comment had been specifically aimed at him. Mac ignored the look on his face – it was a clear warning to all of them that he didn't want to find out case details on the news. He turned to the female lab tech. "Retract the APB, then meet Adam in the AV labs to recreate the scene from the scanner. Flack and Stella will be reporting in any minute with anything they've learned about this guy. Danny, I want you on the new victims – I want to know if these were random targets or not. Look for connections between them; Carter, Morelli, Luke Casimir or Daniel Masterson, just find me a connection."

Danny rubbed his hands together, his stance cocky as he flicked his tongue out over his lips. "You got it, boss."

"Lindsay." She perked at the mention of her name. "I want you and Stella on the new bullets as soon as she gets back with Flack. Hawkes – you're with me."

"Where are we going?" the doctor asked, skirting the table quickly as he scrambled to catch up with their departing leader. Mac's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile.

"Jersey."

* * *

The Audio/Video ( or AV ) Lab's huge monitors glowed as, chewing on a sharpie, Adam keyed up the program and began to download the crime scene scan he'd gotten from the Scansphere Laser 3D Scene Digitizer. Beside him, Aspen watched as the screens began to fill with the image of the Midtown street the precinct was on. He watched as the screens lit her face, then focused on them himself. 

"We've got a tiny little problem, or…well, things aren't adding up the way they should. I'll show you. According to Hammerback, the bullet entered the vic's body at a downward angle, like we'd expect. But it's just…look, watch the screen real quick and I'll run the scenario for you."

Aspen glanced at him, questioning, and he fought not to smile – he was trying to be a professional, but she made it hard when she was so close. He stared for perhaps a moment too long, then jerked back into the present and hit a few more buttons on the keyboard. The computer-generated victims and the simulated morning crowd on the digital street ran backwards on the screen from the time of the shooting, as if rewinding.

"Okay, so using some eyewitness testimony and based off of where each of the four victims ended up, I ran the simulation – complete with weather conditions and wind speeds, I might add – through a few tests, ya know, to find the most likely area of origin for the bullets. I thought I had if figured out, and then Hammerback sent word up from the morgue."

He paused, either gathering his thoughts or building suspense, and twirled the sharpie between nimble fingers. Aspen wanted to scream and laugh as the moment stretched. He flicked his eyes to her, feeling her eager gaze on him, and then glanced back for a longer second look, a smirk spreading over his lips before he could control the reaction. He shook his head.

"The trajectory from the bullet wound in the vic doesn't match the simulation."

Aspen lifted a brow, trying to hold back a smile of her own. Her eyes were all innocence. "Perhaps you did it wrong?" she suggested. Adam rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation.

"No respect," he muttered, following her line of teasing, and then he keyed up the simulation. "Okay, watch…" He used his sharpie as a pointer, following the four victims as they exited the precinct and started down the stairs. As the attack started, red lines appeared showing the estimated trajectory of the bullets as they struck the victims on the screen. "That's what I assumed happened. I estimated a high perch for the sniper and guessed the trajectory at about fifty degrees."

Aspen nodded. Given the height of the buildings and the width of the street between the precinct and the buildings, she decided it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion. But Adam chomped down on his sharpie and restarted the simulation. This time the bullets impacted the victims at a much shallower trajectory.

"I did this one with the numbers Hammerback gave me to crunch. Given the height and downward angle of the wounds in the bodies, the shooter would have had to been on the second story of _that_ building." He pointed to the one directly across from the precinct, then glanced back at Aspen.

"That doesn't…the first three floors of that building are an insurance company, those are personal offices," she murmured.

"Exactly." Adam reached around her to pull up the company's website. "I made a few calls, and the only person with an office that's compatible with the recreation is Marcus Clarence. He's a sales associate, been with the company for fifteen years, has a wife, dog, two kids, and a nice place in the 'burbs." He gave her a meaningful look. "According to his secretary, everybody loves him."

"So why is it looking like his office is our next crime scene?" Aspen asked. "Did you tell Mac?"

He tapped the phone with his sharpie. He started to pick it up, and then stopped. He glanced at her through the fringe of his eyelashes, but her thoughtful attention was on the simulation, which had come to a stop with the victims lying on the street.

"I…today, when I went out to the scene and saw that cop lying there, dead…I couldn't keep the image of Carter and Morelli out of my mind, and I just…Do you…?" He swallowed. "Are you having nightmares about that night in the bar?"

Her eyes flashed to him, and for a moment he felt very, very, _very_ stupid. Then she cleared her throat and nodded, and he breathed out slowly in silent relief that he wasn't alone.

"It's getting better, but…yeah." She nodded.

"Mac wants me to go for a psych eval…maybe you should get one, too, I mean…ya know. It might help."

She nodded, there was a pause, and then she dropped a minor bombshell on him. "Adam, Danny...kinda asked me out for a drink when this is all over."

He froze for just a split second, then he shut the laptop he'd set on the table and began to close out the simulation on the screens. He had to give himself a moment to process that. Whatever Danny was going through with Lindsay, it obviously wasn't keeping him from chasing other skirts.

"When?" he asked softly.

"He called me last night." She bit her lip, looking a little nervous. Adam stared down at the keyboard beneath his fingers for a long moment, then he looked up with an almost painfully calm expression. He imagined this was what it would feel like to be shot, at least the shock part of it.

"Are you gonna go?" He hated himself for asking, but he knew if she went, that'd be it. He wouldn't have a chance, not against Danny. He'd seriously thought that it wasn't going to be a problem, that the charismatic Italian had his sights set on Lindsay, but obviously that had been a mistaken assumption.

"I told him I'd think about it. I wanted to talk to you first."

Adam knew he wasn't too suave, that he didn't know the right things to say, and even if he did, this _certainly_ was not the place to be having this conversation. He scooped up his laptop and looked at her, trying to look like he wasn't worried about losing her to Danny before he'd ever really gotten a shot.

"You…that's up to you, I guess. If you want to, don't let me hold you back."

"Adam—" She winced, obviously not satisfied with the answer. He wouldn't meet her gaze, instead letting his hand fall on the phone.

"I gotta call Mac." He couldn't look at her just yet, but probably the worst part about it was that he wanted to tell her not to go and that please, just to give him a shot even though he was just a scientist and not a detective, and he'd never look that good in tailored jeans and tight t-shirts. But he bit his tongue, and she nodded, and when the silence didn't end, he picked up the phone and dialed Mac's cell number, unable to shake the feeling that he'd just pushed her right into Danny's arms.

* * *

Detective Jessica Angell was in the midst of a God-blessed almost-nap when her phone rang. She uncurled from her warm spot on the couch, cocking her head at the phone speculatively. It was, she knew, probably her precinct. She'd heard about the shootings, called the wives and boyfriend, checked in with her chief. Still, she knew that everyone was pulling double time, and she knew the fact that she'd just finished a four-to-twelve tour wouldn't save her if they decided she needed to come back for another shift tonight. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the phone and answered.

"Angell."

She recognized the voice immediately – not the chief or the sergeant, but Danny Messer from the Crime Labs. He definitely wasn't calling her into work, but something about the quality of his voice still had her muscles tensing. A shame, too – the man was gorgeous, definitely someone any girl would want to hear from on her evening off. But this wasn't a social call, and she shook her head to clear it.

"What's up, Danny?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. After the day they'd had at the precinct, it was an effort to keep the paranoia from her voice. She'd half-expected it to be Detective Flack, in all honesty. He was kind of their precinct's legend, especially with consideration to his father's blue-blooded legacy.

There was a pause, and then, coldly, the CSI continued. "When were you going to tell Mac?"

Angell's muscles tightened into painful knots even as ice slid down her spine. "What do you mean?" she asked, although she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about.

"You had to notice the connections." The tundra was warmer than Danny's tone of voice. Probably more forgiving, too. "So why haven't you said anything?"

"How did you find out?" she countered, gripping the back of her couch for support.

"Mac ordered me to find any connections between the vics. Well, you're it. With one exception. I can't figure out how you know Marcus Clarence."

"Who?"

"Don't play stupid, Angell. We don't know each other well enough." The last comment was sarcastic, and Angell doubted very seriously that this was the moment to suggest they remedy that little problem.

"Danny, I swear to you, I don't know who Marcus Clarence is, okay?"

"Come on, you came off the beat with Morelli right before you became a detective. And Michelle Santoro? She's in the hospital fighting for her life. Didn't you go through Academy together? What about this morning's vic, Brad Totah? Says here you two did a couple busts with Narcotics not too long back. So what's going on?" There was another chilly pause. "You crooked, Angell? Huh?"

"No, I'm not crooked!" Angry now, Angell began looking for her coat. She had to explain herself, before all the wrong conclusions were made and things were even worse. "Look, I didn't call Mac because I was under the impression that these attacks were random."

"So don't believe everything you see on TV. C'mon, Angell, the names had to ring a bell."

"Of course they did! I'm just as upset as everyone else that knows them!" Then another chilly thought struck her. "Do you think _I'm _a target?"

Danny didn't say anything, and then: "Christ, Angell."

"Do you?"

"I'd get down here as fast as you can. The shit is about to hit the fan. I'd rehearse my story on the way over if I were you." He sounded flat, betrayed, and deadly serious. She knew she hadn't worked with him long enough to convince him of her innocence, but Mac had to listen – didn't he?

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," she told him. Her only answer was a hollow click and then dialtone. Shaken, Angell replaced the phone to its hook and began a frantic search for shoes. Hopefully, Mac was in an understanding mood…


	5. Would You Fight For The Weak

NOTES: Welcome to chapter five! Something important to note: Adam dated a _Suicide Girl_?! And Danny didn't even give him a hard time about it? Is Danny sick?! The other thing I wanted to mention is that Chief Dwight Hillborne is the IAB agent that handled Danny's officer involved shooting case in "In The Job" back in Season One, and he's played by actor Joe Morton. At any rate, there isn't anything else major to report for this update, but keep an eye out for ME Marty Pino – he might not be on the show much, but I really love him so he'll be around. And please do continue to review, I love to hear back from the readers!

THANK YOUS:  
_Peanut2lb_: Ah, Danny angst is always so much fun to write, particularly because his character is so emotional. He wears his heart on his sleeve, which makes writing his scenes easy. Also, I'm glad you liked the Angell twist. What intrigues me is that, as of yet, we don't know anything about her that tells us much, and the idea that she might be crooked came to me after "Not What It Looks Like" and stuck – we wouldn't know yet if she is, and how interesting would that angle be? I think you should definitely write a fic with her in it! Also, thank you so much for saying so! Writing the characters on this show as canon and well-developed is a huge focus for me, so hearing your compliments is a big encouragement!  
_Xbexyboox_: I was so glad to see that you'd reviewed chapter four! Thank you for always taking the time to do that, it really makes me happy! I hope that the story continues to engage you! And that I'm doing all of the characters justice!  
_Chili-peppers_: My TalkCSI compadre! I was really happy to see your name in the reviews! I'm glad you liked it. Unfortunately, chapter five won't have as much action packed in, but lemme know if you like it! I aim to please!  
_Kday89_: Wow, that's really high praise, and I'm glad you've enjoyed the fic so far! I can't reveal the ending, but how cute are they? They definitely have amazing chemistry on screen, which I'm trying to capture here, as well. Ya know, I know a lot of people are big on D/F. What's funny is that I had a lot of problems with D/L, but I'm definitely getting over my initial hatred of the pairing. However, I can't say I'm not a D/F fan, I think it depends on the context. For instance, it can be totally believable if it's handled right. Anyway, I'm really relieved to hear that the D/L hasn't upset you enough to keep from reading the whole fic! I hope you keep reading to find out what happens to Angell and our lab geeks – I don't want to give much away, but the fun has definitely only just begun for them!  
_Mj0621_; I love to read your reviews, I really do! Hawkes needs a girl, doesn't he? He's way too sweet and sexy to be on his own. I really like Peyton too, but I had a hard time with her intro onto the team – did her first scene on the show have to be _that_ one? It made me feel bad for Stella…anyway, I'm glad things are getting more interesting. I'll try to keep everything locked tight so it continues to be a tightly-done case fic while exploring the characters, too. I'm flattered that it's on your C2! I took a look and you've got a lot of really great fics and writers on there, I'm very happy to be one of them!  
_Chance2_: I love the penname, seriously. Also, random side note, but I kinda love the name Chance for a guy. Anyway, moving right along…thank you so much for taking the time to write out a review, and I hope you continue to let me know what you think of the story!  
_Dddynamite_: Could I ask for a sweeter reviewer? I don't think so. Thank you for always being so encouraging! I hope you like chapter five as much as you did the others, and I look forward to hearing from you!

As always, a big thank you to the people who put me on their alerts and favorites, and also on their C2s! I really appreciate the support! Enjoy chapter five!

LYRICAL CREDIT: _A Day Late_ by Anberlin and _The Fight_ by Classic Crime

* * *

**A DAY LATE**  
_could have been lovers_

* * *

Chapter Five  
_Would You Fight For The Weak_

Flack stood at the glass in the interrogation room, as expressionless and still as a Greco-Roman statue. His eyes saw seemed to see through the two-way glass, far into somewhere else. He didn't need to see through the glass, however, to know that Danny and Lindsay were watching him from the other side. Danny, he knew, was probably standing right in front of him right now, and it was a struggle to keep from smirking a little. Oh yes, there was no doubt the CSI was paying very close attention – anything to keep his mind off of Lindsay, who would of course be standing right next to him. And that was fine with Flack. He liked being the distraction.

_Watch and learn, then,_ he thought, and turned toward LaMonte. The suspect immediately stiffened at the sight of the icy hatred in the detective's eyes. They were unmercifully blue, and full of accusation. As LaMonte took stock of his situation, Flack settled his palms onto the steel table and leaned over it, towering over his seated prey, a power game that worked almost without fail.

"You were buddies with him, weren't you?" he asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to the look in his eyes. Beside Danny, unseen behind their side of the glass in the observation room, Lindsay tensed slightly. Flack had a powerful presence in interrogation, often using every inch of his height and every trick his father, an NYPD legend, had ever taught him. In the hotseat, LaMonte looked slightly baffled by the context-less question.

"Buddies with who?"

"Oh right, sorry." Flack flipped open the manila folder on the table and then casually flicked over a picture of Luke Casimir's dead body. LaMonte grimaced and jerked back in his chair. Flack watched this reaction carefully, judging the meaning behind it.

"Maybe you recognize him now? See, way I hear it, is you were good friends. Best friends, even, looking at that picture." His brows lifted. "Or do you expect me to believe you didn't have anything to do with that?"

LaMonte's face twisted in indignant fury. "I _don't_ have anything to do with it!"

Flack shoved off of the table, moving slightly around it, behind the suspect. "Right, sure." He let his eyes roam to the glass, leaned comfortably back against the wall and crossed his arms and ankles.

"Look man, I haven't seen Luke since he disappeared. No contact, a'ight?"

"Oh yeah, that's fine," Flack murmured, his voice full of doubt that dripped with sarcasm. His eyes trained on the back of LaMonte's head. He knew the other could feel his gaze. "Except for we both know you saw him every night for two weeks starting last month. I have pictures of you—" he flicked these LaMonte's way as well— "hanging out at the bar. Except you weren't just at that bar to get drunk and laid, were you?" He slammed his hand down beside LaMonte, his body leaning in close over his back. "You two were staking the place out, learning the staff and security, so that you could plot out your attack, weren't you? So what went wrong, LaMonte? Why'd you kill him?"

LaMonte nearly launched out of his chair. "_I didn't kill him!"_

Flack came around to the front of the table and started unforgivingly at LaMonte. "I don't believe you," he said bluntly, "and when we find what you used to _dig the bullets out of Luke Casimir_, I just bet your prints will be all over it. We'll probably find the gun you used to shoot him too, won't we?"

"Fuck _off_, man." LaMonte shoved back from the table. "I ain't got anything more to say to you. Can I go now?"

Flack didn't have anything he could hold LaMonte on, and both detective and suspect knew it. After a long, willful pause, Flack gestured to the door.

"Don't leave town," he warned with chilly finality as LaMonte passed. The other didn't answer, and Flack motioned for another uniformed police officer to escort him out of the precinct. He took a moment, then exited himself. As he did, Danny, Lindsay and Stella appeared in the hallway as well. Danny nudged his glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose and sighed, obviously as frustrated as Flack felt.

"So we got nothin' now." He stuck his hands on his hips. "Great."

"Not so fast, Danny." She held up a file. "I just got this from Adam. Our bullets? They're a match to guns reported stolen by Luke Casimir and Michael LaMonte back in 1999."

Flack shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Stella's infectiously excited green-eyed gaze. "Did you happen to notice who busted them?"

The grim look on Danny's face told the detective that he had, but Stella's eyes flicked back to the arrest report on the case. They widened and Flack had to fight a wince.

"I already called her. She should be here any minute. Mac says to hold onto her until he and the Doc get back from Jersey," Danny told them. "There's something really fishy going on around here, and I'm willin' to bet she knows what exactly that is."

Stella frowned. She'd liked Detective Angell well enough at first blush, but she'd been led to deeply question her judgment after putting her trust so completely in Frankie.

"You really think she did it?"

Danny shrugged. "Do we know her well enough to rule her out? C'mon, Stell, we know there are crooked cops out there."

Stella didn't answer. There wasn't really an argument for that. She looked up and caught Flack's gaze. He looked sympathetic, but he wasn't arguing either. He made a small movement toward her, but Danny caught their attention again.

"At any rate, I'm gonna go keep an eye out for her." He glanced at Lindsay, who'd been rather quiet throughout the exchange. She had a thoughtful look on her face, obviously no longer paying attention to him. _Well, fine. Payback is a bitch, sweetheart._ But he knew, deep down, that his anger only stemmed from hurt. He moved to turn away from her when another approaching figure caught his attention – Aspen. She was making a beeline for him.

Under normal circumstances, Danny would have braced himself for a slap. Sorry to say, but it was typically the reaction that he got when a woman approached him that way. On the other hand, he was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to constitute Aspen slapping him, so perhaps this wouldn't be all bad…?

"Danny." Ignoring the group, Aspen came to a stop directly in front of him. Stella and Lindsay exchanged glances, and Flack tried to subtly cover his smirk by rubbing his nose. Danny himself only shifted slightly and met the tech's gaze almost uncomfortably. He couldn't tell if a slap was coming or not.

"Yeah, what can I do for ya?" he asked, vaguely aware that they were under very intense scrutiny from his coworkers. Her dark eyes were intense, but certain.

"Still wanna go out for those drinks?"

Danny blinked – this definitely wasn't what he'd been expecting. He very resolutely kept from looking at Stella or Flack – or Lindsay. He could feel her bristling at his side, however, and for a moment he remembered all the tightly bottled anger he had at her flat out – and now repeated – rejection of him. Why the hell shouldn't he take Aspen out for drinks? He should be glad that she, at least, had enough good sense to join him for a fun, strings-free night on the town. Obviously _Aspen_ knew that just because he'd asked her out, he wasn't shoving a diamond ring on her finger. After a slight hesitation, Danny allowed a small smile to cross his lips.

"Sure, yeah. Sounds like fun," he told her. Aspen nodded, returning his smile.

"Great. Give me a call when you're off, I can meet you somewhere," she said.

"Done," he agreed, and watched as she turned on her heel and headed away with only a brief nod of hello to the others. He stared after her for a minute, wondering what in the world he was doing, and then turned to his audience. Stella was looking a bit torn, but not altogether unsupportive. Flack looked more than a little amused and discreetly gave him a thumbs-up, and Lindsay…

Lindsay looked livid. Well, he could tell she was livid, anyway. She was actually doing a surprisingly good job of masking it for Flack and Stella, but Danny could tell that he'd be hearing about it later, when they were alone. Or as alone as they ever got in the labs, anyway. He met her gaze evenly, almost challenging her to say something. In fact, he would have welcomed it at this precise moment. But she only stared back at him, her brown eyes fiery and defiant, but her mouth silent. They squared off for a moment, almost toe to toe, before he too turned on his heel and took his leave. A moment later, Lindsay headed very resolutely off in the other direction.

By now, Flack's smile had faded. He glanced at Stella. "This could get bad."

"Could get?" Stella shook her head. "It's already bad. Did he tell you about the—?"

"It's not you, it's me? Yeah, he told me." Flack wondered then if he could really blame Danny for asking Aspen out. It was clearly the move of a man on the rebound, and he was fairly sure that Aspen knew it. Something was up, he knew – something that had very little to do with Danny's supposed attraction to the dark-haired tech.

"Whatever it is, they better be careful. You know how Mac is."

This earned Stella an amused look. "Oh yeah," Flack agreed. "I almost feel bad for the guy." He paused, then smirked. "Almost."

* * *

Mac and Hawkes hadn't been back from New Jersey for five minutes when Chief Dwight Hillborne approached the senior detective with a grim, determined look on his face. Mac felt the beginnings of a massive headache begin to stir, grumbling, to the surface. Whenever he dealt with the surly Internal Affairs Bureau agent, he felt as if he were winding his way carefully through a minefield. The pair had a long and difficult history. And by the looks of it, that history was not going to improve today. He tapped the doctor's arm and motioned him toward Danny's desk, where the CSI was on the phone. As Hawkes detoured, Mac turned again to face the Chief. Before the other could say anything, he steered them both into his office and closed the door.

"Detective Taylor, I understand you're calling Detective Angell in her under suspicion of illegal arms dealing."

Mac was almost – _almost_ – surprised by how quickly the IAB got a hold of information. Then again, Angell had probably called them as soon as she'd gotten off of the phone with Danny. He bit back a sigh. This was exactly the kind of attention he'd been hoping to avoid, particularly when he _should_ be updating his team on what he and Hawkes discovered in Jersey.

"She's not under any suspicion, Chief." He very smoothly took his seat and motioned for Hillborne to take one as well. "We merely have a few questions about the arrest."

"That's not what she told me," Hillborne returned, confirming Mac's suspicions. It had been Angell that tipped off the IAB. "She said Detective Messer was quite aggressive during their phone conversation."

Mac's headache snarled and snapped, and he cursed inwardly. "Detective Messer was trying to stress the importance of her connection to our case. I'm sure he didn't mean to alarm her. But we are trying to find a cop-killer, Chief, and time isn't on our side, as I'm sure you're well aware."

"I don't think I need to remind you that Detective Messer is still—"

"No, you don't, but while we're on the subject, Detective Messer has proven himself time and again, and I don't appreciate you implying that—"

"That he might not be capable of functioning in this kind of high-stress environment? Now, whatever would give me that idea, Detective Taylor? I'm sure he's just fine when he's giving interrogations, but when he's under interrogation, he cracks. Every time." Hillborne stood and straightened his tie. "Detective Angell has an impressive – and untouched – record. Tread lightly, Detective Taylor. The NYPD doesn't need anymore bad publicity right now, and I don't appreciate you leaning on a _good officer._"

Mac stood as well, unflinchingly meeting Hillborne's gaze. "I have an investigation to conduct, Chief. I'd appreciate it if _you_ would let _me_ do my job," he replied sharply. Hillborne sent him one last look of chilly challenge, then he took his leave of Mac's office and, with any luck, his labs. Sighing as his shoulders slumped, Mac vaguely considered sending someone out to get him some Excedrin while he briefed his team. He was re-gathering himself when a knock got his attention.

"Mac."

It was Stella, and as he glanced up at her, he noted the concern filling her face. Obviously, he hadn't masked the growing pain in his head as well as he thought he was.

"Stella." He tried to get better control over his facial muscles. "You got anything?"

"Angell just came in. Was that Hillborne I saw leaving?" she asked, coming around to his side of the desk. She took a good look at him, then she dug into an inner pocket in the blazer she was wearing.

"Yeah." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Angell called him on her way over." He could almost hear Stella's frown.

"Interesting."

"Then he took a jab at Danny." He opened his eyes as she pressed something into his hand – two somethings, actually. "What…?"

"Excedrin," she replied. "You were saying?"

He only paused for a second, then he brought his hand to his lips and tipped the pills into his mouth. He should have guessed that Stella would have headache medicine with her. She was, he thought with a touch of humor, the labs' boyscout – always prepared.

"He was reiterating the fact that Danny's on the IAB's hit list." Mac's tone told her how much he thought of _that_ fact. Unless Danny seriously stepped out of line, there was nothing the IAB could do to the younger CSI. And Mac would continue to act as a barrier between Hillborne and Messer for as long as he had to. Danny was too good a CSI to lose because of an incident that was nearly two years old. "Put Angell into an interrogation room. I'll have Danny and Hawkes deal with her. In the meantime, I need the team together again for a briefing."

Stella nodded, grabbing her phone to send out a mass text message to the group. Then she glanced up. "Marty Pino wanted you to stop by Autopsy when you get a minute. He says he found something you might find interesting, but he's not sure how much it will help the case."

Mac nodded, ignored his ringing phone, and slipped out of his office with Stella. He caught sight of Flack leading Angell to interrogation, but it was clear the taller detective was trying to make it appear as if it would be a normal questioning. Clearly confused, and starting to get angry, Angell wasn't giving Flack the benefit of the doubt – whatever Danny had said to her on the phone had hit home.

It took a few minutes to get everyone together. Once they all were gathered in a conference room, Mac wheeled over a whiteboard they normally used for timelines and began putting down what they knew.

"We've got a point of connection between three of our victims and two of our suspects to Detective Angell." He wrote down all the names. "We can also connect at least one of the weapons used in the shootings to Angell as well." He ignored the uncomfortable way Hawkes was shifting behind him. He knew the doctor was fond of the new detective, but he also knew with absolute certainty that Hawkes would do his job.

"We can't tie her to Daniel Masterson or to Marcus Clarence, Mac," Danny reminded him. "And we can't tie her to New Jersey, either."

"And Flack and I didn't have any luck tracking down Masterson, either. He has no known address and the veterinary clinic he used to work at has been closed down for almost a year," Stella added. Mac's ears perked.

"Masterson worked as a vet?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked, watching the thoughtful look cross Danny's face, and seeing the wheels in Lindsay's head start to turn, too.

"The tool marks found on Casimir's ribs…" she said out loud. "They could easily have been made by a tool you might find in a veterinary clinic."

"Exactly. Which makes Masterson our prime suspect." He turned to Lindsay. "Did you find out anything more about him?"

"Well, after we found him on Ask Sam, I looked into his record. He's got some minor assault charges, but nothing like this," she replied. "Seems like kind of a big jump."

"Sure, but three of the victims have been directly connected to Masterson," Hawkes pointed out.

"Four?" Danny seemed confused.

"Right. Morelli, Carter and Brad Totah all busted him, we know that thanks to the complaints he filed against them. And thanks to our trip to Jersey, Mac and I IDed some of Casimir's old crew, including—"

"Daniel Masterson," Stella finished, and Hawkes nodded. "Throw in LaMonte, and it's starting to sound like these attacks weren't so random after all."

"No, but they are increasing in intensity." Mac turned from the whiteboard to face his team. "The bar shooting was an attempt to take out both Morelli and Carter at once. Our third bar victim was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the second shooting took down four cops, and the fatality – Brad Totah – is only very loosely connected to Masterson through a minor possession charge from over a decade ago."

Stella nodded. She'd read Masterson's file, too. But one thing about the Totah connection was relevant. "Totah was the first cop to arrest Masterson. He was the flashpoint for this guy's obsession with cops."

"And the other three victims?" Lindsay asked.

"He's getting hungry," Mac replied, and she shivered.

"So it's not just specific targets anymore," Danny murmured. "He's developed a liking for the killing."

"Classic serial killer," Hawkes pointed out.

"But if Casimir and Masterson were old friends, why would Masterson kill him?" This was a point that had been bothering Stella since they'd began theorizing. Even Mac paused at the question, and Lindsay tapped her foot thoughtfully. It was again Danny who provided the answer.

"Deal went bad. Let's say they came to an arrangement of some kind. But then let's say Masterson wasn't satisfied with just taking down one or two cops, and Casimir called him on it. There's only one way at that point to keep Casimir from going to the cops and letting us in on the plan in exchange for a deal – kill him. There's no honor amongst thieves, isn't that how it goes?"

Mac opened his mouth to comment when Flack stuck his head in. "Angell's not saying much, but she is telling us that she has no idea how some of the guns from that arrest got back on the street. You wanna hold her on arms dealing?"

Mac shook his head. "Let her go. IAB's already hounding us, and if she did leak those guns, we'll be able to find her. But Flack? Have one of your guys keep an eye on her."

"Done." With a brief nod, Flack disappeared to make the call.

Mac tapped Danny's arm with the pen. "Go grab Adam, we're gonna need him on this." With a nod, the Italian disappeared in the direction of the A/V labs.

As he made his way through the halls, Flack caught up with him, jogging to meet up with his friend. He looked troubled, that Danny could tell at a glance. He slowed a bit, knowing that whatever it else it was, it wasn't good. He stopped altogether when Flack failed to say anything.

"What's up?" he asked. Flack glanced around, then pulled Danny into an empty break room.

"We've got to talk."

The intensity from Flack was unexpected. Danny met his gaze and then nodded slowly. "Sure, sure. We can't talk and walk?"

Flack shook his head. "This is kinda…I don't want anyone to overhear."

"Are we in the third grade also?" Danny asked, looking confused as Flack pulled him deeper into the empty room, away from the door. "What's going on that has you acting like my thirteen-year-old niece?"

"You're a real slayer," Flack replied with an eyeroll. Then he sobered. "Danny – I've been thinking a lot since I got out of the hospital. You know. Live life like any moment could be your last?"

"Yeah yeah, all that therapy bullshit." Danny flashed a fierce grin, more a baring of teeth than a smile. "So lemme get this straight, you've been thinking a lot about us, right? About where this—" he gestured between the two of them— "is going? Well, I uh…I hate to break it to ya, _bro_, but uh…I'm not gay."

"You're a real clown, Messer – but in your dreams." But Flack's slight smirk faded quickly. "Nah, c'mon, be serious, would you? I think…" He took a deep breath, his blue eyes troubled. "I _think _I have feelings for Stella."

It took almost a full second for that to sink in, and when it did, Danny's jaw dropped open. "Don…c'mon, you serious? That's…_Stella?_" He couldn't logically think of any reason why it couldn't happen, but the idea of his friend and his semi-boss dating…not to mention it hadn't been too long ago that there was an inner-lab pool going for how long it would take Mac to ask her out. That had fallen to the wayside once the rumors about Peyton Driscoll had started up, but this…this was completely out of the blue. There was just no way that Flack was having serious feelings for Stella. No. Fucking. Way.

So why did Flack look so serious?

"I know. Believe me," Flack said with a sigh. "I know."

"Don, I…"

Flack met his gaze, his normally clear blue eyes cloudy. "I know," he repeated, and then he was briskly walking away, heading for the door. Danny called after him, but the tall detective ignored him. A moment later, and he was gone completely, leaving Danny feeling a little breathless. He was glad now that he had an excuse to go out tonight – he was going to need that drink.


End file.
